


A Row (or Two)

by lost_spook



Category: Doctor Who (Big Finish Audio)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-20
Updated: 2012-04-20
Packaged: 2017-11-04 00:20:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/387572
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lost_spook/pseuds/lost_spook
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On the usefulness of knitting in an emergency.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Row (or Two)

“You won’t get us free by wearing out the soles of your shoes,” observed Evelyn.

The Doctor directed what he imagined was a killing stare in her direction.

“And there’s no need to start sulking,” she added. “Why don’t you sit down and see if we can come up with a plan – something we can do when they send the guard for us?”

He gripped his lapels. ( _Sulking?_ Honestly, the woman was unreasonable at times.) “And what if nobody does? What then, eh?”

“Well, you’ll preserve more energy sitting than pacing about. It’s distracting and I’m reaching a critical point on this sleeve.”

The Doctor paused and folded his arms. “Evelyn, do you not think for one tiny moment that us escaping this cell with our lives is just a smidgeon more important than the progress of your fluffy jumper?”

“I knew I shouldn’t have left the pattern back on the ship,” she reflected. “I should know by now we’re always getting locked up somewhere or other.”

“Oh, I give up!”

“Well, _obviously_ , I think it’s important, Doctor, but I helped you sound out the stonework an hour ago and I even found a paperclip for you to try and pick the lock. It was no use then and it’s no use now. I don’t see why you can’t simply sit still like a rational being.”

He examined the contents of his pockets again. He seemed to have come out exceptionally ill-prepared today: an apple core (dirty habit; he must stop doing that), jelly babies with lint, several coins of obscure origin and his UNIT pass. He sighed heavily and tried the door again.

“Dear me,” commented Evelyn, looking up in time to catch the action. “Is it still locked? Maybe if you try again in a minute or two, it’ll be open.”

He threw her a reproachful look. "Sarcasm is a very low form of wit."

“I’m sorry, but I wish you’d stop stalking about.”

He frowned slowly and then sat beside her. “Evelyn.”

“Yes?”

The Doctor said, “You’re knitting.”

*

“I thought you were supposed to be a genius,” she returned, starting a new row. 

These sleeves took half an hour at a time and it was a delicate white she was working with. Really, she thought, she should work on something a little more practical for popping in her bag during adventures with the Doctor – a scarf or a blanket perhaps. Yes blanket squares would do nicely -. She wouldn’t even have to worry about alternating between knit and purl when she was stuck with an impatient Time Lord in a cramped space.

“Yes, but you’re _knitting_!”

She tutted. “I think we’ve established that.”

“You should have told me earlier that you had _knitting needles_ and wool in your bag.”

It was her turn to give him a look. “Since I pulled them out and started knitting at least twenty minutes ago, I didn’t feel an announcement was necessary.”

“Yes, but – a knitting needle!”

Evelyn contemplated the prospect that one confinement too many might have sent him round the twist and then she finally understood. “You’re not going to try and tumble the lock with it, are you? You might bend it.”

“It’s worth a try. And wool – that could come in handy if I can’t manage to pick the lock. Maybe we could stretch some across the doorway – trip the guard up?”

She stuffed the ball in her bag protectively. “This was expensive, I'll have you know.”

“Evelyn, if it gets us out of here, I will buy you as many balls of wool and knitting needles as you want. I’ll even buy you a sheep if that will keep you happy!”

“No, thank you. Honestly, where am I supposed to put a sheep? And this may come as a surprise to you, but while I am a history professor, I don’t actually know how to spin.”

He waited. Then he said, “Well, come on, then, hand it over.”

“Not until I’ve finished this row.”

*

He reasoned with her. “Evelyn, _dear_ Evelyn, you cannot possibly be serious.”

“Of course I am. This is a fiddly pattern and I’m not ruining the past hour or so’s work because you’re too impatient to wait.”

“Oh, very well. How long will it take?”

“About twenty-five minutes, if you keep quiet – and still.”

“And if in twenty minutes, someone comes down here and marches us both off to be executed, what then, hmm?”

“Well, I shall apologise beautifully, I promise. I might go so far as to stab one of them with one of my needles.”

“Oh, very amusing.”

She sighed. “Doctor, I imagine that someone will be coming back with a meal at some point, but we’ve only been here an hour and it’s nowhere near lunch time. Besides, that war lord’s threat was that we would be mouldering down here a long time, so I think your scenario is somewhat exaggerated.”

*

She concentrated on the work in hand and found that it was possible to screen out his repeated incredulity. (“Somewhat exaggerated? Hah. _Exaggerated_ , she says! I’d like to see her saying that without a head…”)

Twenty or so minutes later, she finished her row with a flourish and handed him the needle.

“Thank you,” he said archly and set to work on the lock.

Evelyn collected up her knitting and replaced it in her bag. “Well?”

“Give me a few minutes,” he said, staring into the black keyhole. “Evelyn, you didn’t bring the pattern with you, did you?”

She raised her eyebrows. “No. I knew I should have done, but -. Why do you want to know?”

He grinned at her. “The key’s in the lock. Given that gap under the door, all we need is a piece of paper and – bingo!”

“Well, I do have a crossword book in here somewhere,” she murmured, rifling through her bag.

The Doctor surveyed her with interest. “While in this particular instance, I’m delighted to hear it, I would like to know what precisely makes you so convinced that you’re going to end up needing something with which to dispel boredom while on a trip out with me?”

She tore out a page and passed it to him. “Well, you must admit, you do know how to make enemies.”

He slipped it under the door. 

“Another,” he said. “I might miss.”

“My goodness,” she said, “are you feeling all right? It’s not like you to admit that you might make a mistake.”

He accepted another sheet of paper, glancing at it briefly. “Hmm, I would have said that was ACCEPT not ASSENT.”

“I thought you were in a hurry.”

He smiled at her. “Thank you, Evelyn.”

*

He pulled back the paper with the key on it and then cursed under his breath. “Can you pass me the knitting needle again?”

Eventually, he managed to hook the key and presented it to her with a flourish. “Aha. Liberty!”

“I don’t know why you have to be so melodramatic,” she said. “Put the thing in the lock and get us out of here.”

He opened the door and gestured for her to leave. “Ladies first.”

“I don’t think so – not when there’s a chance that there might be a large, armed guard hanging around somewhere out there. You go first – and give me back my knitting needle.”

He peered out. “I think we’re safe enough.”

“You’ve scratched it,” she said with a sigh, following him out.

*

Armed only with a knitting needle and a jelly baby, they proceeded to make their escape from the most feared warlord on Arranis (a feat still the subject of legend on that planet).

Evelyn was rather more pleased with the way the jumper turned out. Even the Doctor had to admit it wasn’t a bad piece of work, although not in so many words.


End file.
